My Angel
by Marie McKinnon
Summary: Harry and Draco compete in everything, and the competition has seeped into their social lives. Every girl Draco's ever dated leaves him for Harry. Except this one...


My Angel   
by Marie McKinnon   
  
A/N: This story is dedicated to Mahree Avocado. Now, I'm sure most of you are   
wondering who she is, but just let me get this out first. First, Happy Birthday to Mahree.   
Second, I wrote this story as a birthday present for her, so if you don't like it, that's all right.   
Third, she's been given a copy of this story (she and I go to the same school and have the same   
lunch sometimes) and will probably be around to make sure I wasn't lying when I said I'd post   
this. If ffnet ever gets itself back together. Now, I'm sure I've left everyone in enough suspense,   
so I'll get this started. Happy Reading!   
  
*   
  
You are my angel   
Of the morning   
Angel...   
Give me one kiss before you leave...   
  
*   
  
Draco Malfoy, sitting silently at the Slytherin table, glared vehemently at the Gryffindors.   
His silvery, almond-shaped eyes seemed to glow like a cat's as he focused, unblinking, on his   
archrival. Harry Potter was oblivious to the daggers flying in his direction, however; his   
attentions were all for the chic, elegant girl next to him.   
  
Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw, had left Draco for the fame that accompanied her role   
as the girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived. Almost all of Draco's girlfriends, in fact, had abandoned   
him for the same reason, later to be abandoned themselves.   
  
Brushing his silvery bangs out of his eyes, Draco racked his brains for a girl that was close   
enough to Potter to wish he'd save some of his affection for her, but also close enough that it   
would really hurt him when it was found that she was Draco's for keeps. Hermione Granger   
would have been the perfect girl, but she was all Ron's. He searched the Gryffindor table and hit   
the jackpot almost immediately.   
  
"Ginny Weasley," he breathed. The girl was glaring at Mandy, jealousy obvious through   
the green-eyed monster almost jumping on the table next to her. "She's not bad looking," he told   
himself. This was an understatement. Of medium height with the traditional Weasley red hair in   
waves around her face like a halo, dark brown eyes peering our under long dark lashes, and a full,   
red mouth, she was one of the prettiest girls in her year, not to mention the whole school.   
"Pretty, I s'pose, and close enough to Potter. His best friend's sister, of all things!" A malicious   
smile lit the ovaline, handsome face. "Too close for comfort, but I'm sure it'll work. I'll snatch   
her from right under Potter's nose, and when he wants her back, he won't get her because she   
knows it won't last. Could this be more perfect? The Hogsmeade 375th Anniversary Dance is   
this weekend. Ginny'll come with me, and together, with a little acting, we'll cause the proverbial   
uproar."   
  
"What'd you say?" Crabbe asked thickly, piggy eyes narrowing.   
  
"Nothing. Keep eating," he responded, eyes locked on a certain young lady and smiling   
self confidently. "Not like you wouldn't anyway."   
  
"Hunh?"   
  
"Forget it."   
  
*   
  
Even more catlike than usual, the Slytherin stood in the shadows of an empty classroom,   
waiting for the lone Gryffindor to pass him. A head of red hair, along with a slim, feminine body,   
came into view. Making sure no other Weasleys were around, Draco slipped into step next to   
her.   
  
"Hi, Ginny."   
  
"H-- What're you talking to me for? I thought you hated me. You hate my whole   
family."   
  
"Where did you get that idea? I know I've been rude before, but my friends were   
watching. You understand."   
  
"I s'pose. Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"   
  
"Actually, yes. There's a party in Hogsmeade this weekend, and I--well--I was wondering   
if you'd go with me," he finished quickly.   
  
Taken aback, Ginny remained speechless for a moment. One part of her was revolted and   
told her to wait and see if Harry asked her. The other was more cynical and urged her to say yes   
because it would hurt Harry. Her vengeful side finally prevailed, pushing hope into a corner.   
  
"I'd love to go with you," she said, blushing furiously.   
  
"That's wonderful. I'll meet you in the Entrance hall at 7:00 on Saturday."   
  
They continued in silence until Draco asked "So how're things between you and Potter?"   
  
She snapped her head around and coldly said "I don't know what you're talking about."   
  
His slow smile made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Inwardly, he wanted to   
think that she wouldn't be too bad of an actress, but that would be traitorous. "Yes you do. I   
saw you glaring at those idiots he flirts with. The way he treats girls is atrocious. You're too   
good for him. That's why I asked you to come to the Hogsmeade Dance with me -- Potter will   
listen to you if you try to tell him that he ought to treat people better. So now you know my main   
goal in life," he finished with a grin. "Still want to come with me?"   
  
The idea of proving something to Harry was inviting, she had to admit. For a Slytherin,   
Mal -- Draco, she corrected herself sternly, certainly was right about some things. All of Harry's   
charm couldn't hide the fact that he acted towards all girls as though they had been set on earth to   
serve him. Well, someone had to set him straight, and she and her new boyfriend were the perfect   
people to do it.   
  
"Harry needs a manners lesson," she agreed. "I'd love to be the one to teach him."   
  
  
  
Chapter Two: Do You Wanna Dance?   
  
One look in the mirror told Ginny that she looked as perfect as possible. A tumbling mass   
of curls on the top of her head proved to be her hair. Silver shadowed eyes glittered, long, black   
lashes flickered. Smiling, her lips turned up, displaying their highly glossy state. Going with the   
silver theme, the shimmering dress she'd decided to wear was quite a bit shorter and tighter than   
she would usually have worn, but it was her first date with Draco, and if she was to impress him   
and make Harry jealousat the same time, tighter was better. Tiny feet hid in a pair of silver   
dancing shoes that she'd borrowed from her Annie, her friend. Annie'd been only too delighted   
to help -- Ginny was notroious in her belief that people ought to wait before dating. Her friend   
bet that she'd be interested by 5th year, and she'd grudgingly agreed. Now, observing the   
reverance she was sure to receive in her fully beautified state, Annie had to admit that Ginny   
wasn't as naive as she'd seemed.   
  
"Who're you going with?" She asked.   
  
Ginny, as usual, turned bright red. "I'm not telling. You'd laugh."   
  
"No I wouldn't."   
  
"Yeah, you'd just stare at me and start rolling on the floor."   
  
The nice-girl tactic wasn't working very well, so she decided to be nastier. "If you don't   
tell me who asked you to the dance, I'll follow you there and bring your brother with me."   
  
She paled. Her brother couldn't know. He'd murder her if he found out beforehand. He   
could know at the dance, but not earlier. It would ruin everything, and she knew Annie didn't   
care about morals. Ron, being the only of her brothers left at Hogwarts, was very protective of   
his younger sister. If he even thought of Malfoy touching Gin, he'd fly into a rage.   
  
"Okay, okay, but you have to swear on your wand that you won't tell anyone before I get   
there." Rumour had it that breaking an oath sworn on a wand would mean loss of magical powers   
forever, so it wasn't to be toyed with.   
  
"That serious, is it? I swear on my wand that I won't tell anyone or anything who Ginny   
Weasley is going to the dance with."   
  
"A simple 'I swear' would've sufficed," Ginny said drily.   
  
"Oh well. Come on, tell me."   
  
She took a deep breath and blurted "Draco Malfoy."   
  
Annie stared, then revived. "Are you mad? Your brother'll go crazy! Ron'll flip, and   
Harry'll never speak to you again! Though he *is* really good-looking," she said, as an   
afterthought.   
  
A roll of her eyes demonstrated Ginny's opinion of the last statement. "That's not the   
point. Draco and I agree that Harry treats girls really badly, so we're kind of going to show him   
how you ought to act towards a girl instead of playing around with her."   
  
"Admirable sentiments, but Harry will be seeing too much red to get the point, and it   
won't be from your hair."   
  
"Ha ha ha ha. Sorry to disappoint you, darling, but I'm going to be late."   
  
*   
  
Pacing back and forth in the Entrance Hall, Draco went over his plans. Everything would   
run smoothly, he was sure. Then Ginny came down the stairs, and he forgot everything else. Her   
skirt was short, he noticed, but that didn't really matter. The bodice had very thin straps, so thin   
that they were almost non-existent, and was very form-fitting. A low back and straight, top-of-the-knee length skirt only added to her effort at being seductive. If that's what she was aiming   
for, it certainly worked, he thought, suddenly struck by the fact that he'd absent-mindedly picked   
one of the most gorgeous girls in the school to go to the dance with. His usual composure   
seemed to have deserted him.   
  
"Ummm... hello," she said, unsure as to whether or not the glazed look in his eyes was a   
good sign.   
  
"H--Hello," Draco nearly choked out. "You look beautiful."   
  
Red colour crept into her cheeks. "Thanks. Are we waiting for anyone or should we start   
walking?"   
  
"Let's start walking. I think the doors open at 7:10."   
  
In silence the pair walked to the Three Broomsticks, crunching gravel beneath their feet.   
At slightly after 7:10 they entered the ballroom. She shook her head slightly, as though ridding   
herself of any anxiety that could have been waiting to make its appearance.   
  
"So... Do you want to dance?" He asked.   
  
"That sounds lovely."   
  
The songs had never sounded so good to the couples. Draco was a very good dancer,   
Ginny learned, and waltzed, swung, and tiptoed her way to a position of favour in the eyes of the   
dance contest judges. Finally, for a rest, a slow song played. A slow smile lit his face. This was   
sure to be when Weasley walked in on them, so he'd better make it good. Still, his heart pounded   
as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. She grinned bashfully and linked her hands at   
the back of his neck. A feeling of complete contentment washed over the pair. For some strange   
reason, Ginny felt safe and warm in the strong arms, though the long, thin fingers against her   
spine sent tingles through her body.   
  
"WHAT THE H*** IS GOING ON HERE?" A familiar voice yelled. "MALFOY, GET   
YOUR D*** HANDS OFF MY SISTER!"   
  
Draco and Ginny broke apart to face Ron, Hermione, and Harry. All three sported   
disbelieving expressions.   
  
With one of his arms still around her waist, he drawled "And if I don't?"   
  
"I'LL MURDER YOU, THAT'S WHAT!"   
  
"Ginny doesn't seem to want you to murder me," he remarked calmly. Indeed, she had   
sidled up to him until he easily could have picked her up and carried her back to the castle.   
  
"Ron, you aren't being very sensible," she commented. "Mum has always said that you   
ought to think before you act. Or did it never occur to you that I wanted to come with Draco?"   
  
"NO YOU DIDN'T! HE DID SOMETHING, I KNOW IT!"   
  
"The only thing he did was be exceedingly polite to me. Something you're not managing   
very well."   
  
"He's not good enough for you. Come back with us," Harry urged.   
  
"Perhaps you didn't understand me when I said I wanted to come with him."   
  
"You're not suggesting that *you* are good enough for Ginny, Potter," Draco drawled.   
"Not jealous, are you?"   
  
"Of course I'm not jealous, though I *do* think I'm good enough for my best friend's   
sister. Better than you, at any rate."   
  
"Oh, I doubt that, Potter. She doesn't seem to be enjoying your company very much."   
  
Ron couldn't hold his anger in any longer. "WHY DON'T YOU LET HER SPEAK FOR   
HERSELF, HUNH?"   
  
"I'd be glad to speak for myself, thank you, Ron," she cut in smoothly. "And no, I don't   
think Harry's good enough for me. Sorry, but I'd prefer to be seeing someone who respects me,   
not someone who'll run off with the first buxom seventh year who walks by. If you'll excuse us,   
we were just going to sit down." Still with Draco's arm around her waist, she sat down, allowing   
him to push her chair in.   
  
"WHAT'RE YOU LOOKING AT?" Ron bellowed. The crowd giggled, then went off to   
spread the news. "He'll regret this. I'm not going to let him mess around with my sister, I swear   
I'll pound him into the dust..."   
  
For the first time that evening, Hermione spoke up. "She's happy, Ron. You oughtn't   
interfere."   
  
"Shut up, Hermione," Harry and Ron said simultaneously.   
  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: The Aftermath   
  
"Gin?" Hermione called the next morning. "Will you come talk to me for a moment   
please?"   
  
"Aren't you going to berate me for my choice?" A muffled voice demanded.   
  
Hermione nodded vigorously. "That's the point. It was *your choice.* Harry and Ron   
don't get it. They think you and I ought to obey them just because they're almighty men. Not   
true, is it?"   
  
The door slid open. "Where are my manners? Come in." Being a Prefect, Ginny had a   
tiny chamber for herself, furnished with a small desk, two chairs, a bed, and a roaring fire in the   
grate. Hermi sat down in the rocker while her companion dragged the one from the desk over. "I   
want the truth," she said suddenly. "Harry and Ron hate me, right?"   
  
"They don't really hate you," she replied delicately. "Not completely. They can't fathom   
why you'd choose to go to a dance with a Slytherin, much less Mal--Draco," she added hastily,   
seeing the look flying in her direction. "You know how he and Harry are to each other. To them,   
everything is a contest, especially girls. I s'pose they think you've gone over to the enemy or   
something like that."   
  
"If this is war, I just won a battle," Ginny remarked slyly. "Harry won't know what hit   
him."   
  
The older girl smiled, then gave her companion a mock-suspicious glance. "Are you sure   
the Sorting Hat didn't put you in Slytherin?"   
  
"It was thinking about it," she admitted ruefully. "My powers of persuasion were so great   
that I convinced it to put me here instead."   
  
Grinning, Hermione said "No wonder Draco likes you. You've a mean streak to rival   
his!"   
  
*   
  
Monday came and went. Wednesday brought loads of homework, and, for Ginny, a trip   
to the library. On entering she spotted the very person she'd hoped to see. Grabbing her books,   
she walked over and sat down across from Draco. Annie was right about one thing, she thought   
absent-mindedly, unaware of what she'd been telling herself. He *is* really good-looking.   
  
"How's it been?" He asked.   
  
"Fine. You?"   
  
"All right," he admitted.   
  
"Not too enthusiastic, are we?" Gin, talented as ever, managed to get a smile. She   
shivered inwardly, suddenly cold, but ignored it. "Tell me what's wrong. You can trust me."   
  
"I'm sure," he teased. "Has Hermione talked to you about our last few Care of Magical   
Creatures classes?" She shook her head no. "Then you wouldn't know that your brother has   
attacked me five times since yesterday. It's getting quite annoying." Maybe I should dump her,   
he thought. Under her chocolate brown gaze, he felt very self conscious and almost melted.   
That's a no, then, he added.   
  
"I'd talk to him, but I doubt it'd do any good. Still want to go through with this? They   
don't seem to be getting the idea."   
  
A grim smile played around the edges of his mouth. "We'll just have to try harder, then,   
won't we? For example, Potter's coming now. What say we 'go get a book'?" This term for   
'kiss behind a bookshelf' was well known among Hogwarts students. It was said that James   
Potter had come up with it, but no one knew for sure. Ginny turned bright red and gave a slight   
inclination of the head that was inferred to be a nod. Only when she stood up did her boyfriend   
realize that she was wearing Muggle trousers and a tight long-sleeved shirt. *Now* he was   
interested.   
  
In the 'Cheesy Cooking Methods' section, she appeared to be absorbed in one of the top   
shelves. Her back was turned, leaving the side of her neck open to anything Draco wanted to do.   
His opportunity waited, and he felt himself anticipating. Years of ignoring feelings nearly shoved   
his excitement away, but the cliched warm fuzzy feeling still remained. Wait 'til Potter's close, he   
thought. When Harry was just around the corner, Draco brushed the side of her neck with his   
lips.   
  
She turned to ice the instant he touched her. Pricked by thousands of needles, as though   
her entire being had fallen asleep and was waking, she turned her head. One glance was all she   
got of his handsome, mysterious face before his mouth was against hers and she was crushed into   
the bookshelf. Hands held her upper arms, gripping like he was afraid to lose her.   
  
Sparks exploded in his head. Yeah, he'd kissed girls before, but never anyone whose skin   
seemed so soft, whose glance melted his insides, whose divine form seemed so entrancing. Every   
bit of him electrified, he took a chance and, parting his lips, carressed the inside of her mouth with   
his tongue.   
  
Shivers broke out along her spine. He seemed to want all of her at once -- the inside, the   
outside, the in-between. Fire engulfed her mind at the same time, coursing through her veins.   
  
Harry, watching furiously, couldn't take his eyes off the pair. Silver hair mixed with red,   
two bodies became one. He saw Ginny knock her head against the shelf and prayed that they'd   
break apart so he could murder Malfoy. Luckily for him, the pain seemed to have cleared her   
head. Draco, too, reluctantly reversed to his normal composure and broke away to breathe. One   
glance told him that they ought to stop. Potter had seen, he was sure. There would be time for   
that later.   
  
Cheeks rosy, angel's whisps flying around her face, she walked around the bookshelf and   
right into Harry. "Excuse me," she said coldly. His green eyes seemed to bore into her face, but   
she remained unphased. Draco was nearby, and his presence, if anything, calmed her.   
  
"Why do you let him do that to you?" He whispered.   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."   
  
"You know what I'm talking about. Don't deny it," Harry growled. "He's insulting you.   
Let me beat him up. Then maybe he'll have learned his lesson and won't fiddle with people who   
can't stand up to him."   
  
Eyes flashed. "Calling me weak, are you? Let me tell you something, Potter," she spat,   
jabbing him in the chest with her forefinger, "Draco is worth twenty of you. I prefer him to you.   
Maybe that hurts, but the truth can be painful. And the truth is," she continued, "I like him and   
not you, so you'd better get over it."   
  
Fuming, the Gryffindor walked out of the library to report his findings to Ron. Draco, his   
grin a mile wide, slid over from his hiding place.   
  
"That's my lioness."   
  
"Yours, am I? When did I agree to that?"   
  
"You certainly didn't have any arguments a minute ago."   
  
"Oh. Right." All of her previous charisma evaporated. Red to the roots of her hair, she   
looked down at her feet.   
  
"It's official, folks," he drawled. "She's mine."   
  
*   
  
Ron scanned the common room, trying to find his sister. "She was right there, I know it!   
Where'd she go, though?"   
  
Harry clambered through the portrait hole and and ran up to his friend.   
  
"Did you find her?" Ron asked anxiously.   
  
"Oh, I found her all right," he said darkly. "You might want to sit down for this."   
  
"Ginny wasn't with Malfoy, was she?"   
  
"Got it in one. They were--erm--how shall I say this--erm--getting a book--enjoying   
themselves immensely, I might add..."   
  
"What's so interesting about--WHAT DID YOU SAY?"   
  
They now had the attention of all the Gryffindors. Harry flushed and looked at the table.   
  
"Malfoy and Ginny were getting a book--looked pleased with himself, the smug   
b******..." By that time everyone was giggling.   
  
Ron, gaping like a fish, picked up a piece of parchment and started to scribble madly.   
"Read that through for me, will you, Hermione?"   
  
Fred and George:   
  
You've got to help me. Ginny's new boyfriend is Draco Malfoy ( I still shudder at   
the thought). We saw them at a Hogsmeade dance and Harry walked in on them in the library.   
You've got firepower, and I need to destroy that b****** before he does anything to Gin.   
You're welcome to help me murder him, of course. Just get over here, NOW!   
  
Your desperate brother,   
Ron.   
  
Calmly, Hermione ripped the letter into strips, then tiny pieces. She scattered them into   
the fire. Glaring, she turned to face the two boys, who, as expected, had their mouths wide open.   
  
"You two," she said clearly, "are despicable, miserable wretches. What business is it of   
yours if Ginny and Malfoy like each other? They're allowed. If she were unhappy with him,   
she'd do something! Obviously she likes the way he treats her a heck of a lot better than the way   
you do, so keep your overlarge noses out of her love life! It's her choice, she's chosen, and you'll   
just have to live with it! And you," she rounded on Harry, "are an abomination. Girls are not   
your playthings, Harry. You've got to learn that. We have feelings too, and your messing around   
with those feelings isn't doing anyone an ounce of good! If you ever want to have a meaningful   
relationship with someone, I suggest you do a lot of growing up first!" With that, she turned on   
her heel and stormed out of the room.   
  
"Um," the two boys said.   
  
"I take it she didn't like the letter, then," Ron muttered.   
  
  
  
Chapter Four: The Christmas Spirit   
  
Winter came in quickly. During an uneventful first week of winter holidays, Ginny walked   
along the grounds aimlessly. In one of the many gardens there was a swing, like those Muggle   
children play on at school. Feeling lonely, she sat down and started swinging.   
  
"Christmas is supposed to be a time for family," she thought aloud. "What do you do   
when your family and some of your closest friends disown you? No one in Gryffindor will talk to   
me except Hermione, and she's always with Ron and Harry. Some Christmas. I s'pose the   
answer to my question is that you just sit and wonder what to do when you've been disowned."   
  
An early snowfall blanketed the area, dyeing all the trees and statues a sparkling white.   
More flakes began slipping through the grasp of the clouds, glittering in her uncovered hair.   
  
"I'll tell you what to do when you've been disowned," Draco called from the gate. "Come   
to me!" On entering, his first glance of Ginny made him catch his breath. She looked like an   
angel, clad in white, cheeks ruddy from the cold, snowflakes shimmering in her hair. In a relaxed   
position, legs slightly to the side, her position almost begged him to come to her. "Is this an   
invitation?" He demanded, indicating her posture.   
  
"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," she said playfully, cheered by his presence.   
  
"How do I find out?"   
  
"I don't know, you tell me."   
  
He smiled slowly. "Gladly." The swing moved up and down, up and down, back and   
forth, back and forth. At exactly the right moment, he pounced, knocking her to the ground. She   
lay flat on her back, his hands on her shoulders. Every breath sent a puff of vapor into the air. He   
peppered her face with kisses, soft and sweet and delicate.   
  
"Whoa," Ginny gasped. "What've you been doing at your house to make you so--enthusiastic?"   
  
"Missing you, among other things," he replied cheekily, though the recent torture weighed   
heavily on his mind. No father could be more insistent than Lucius Malfoy. When he said that it   
was degrading to be seen with a Weasley, even if it was to hurt Harry Potter, he found a way to   
make it stick. And oh, it stuck.   
  
A large purple mark on his neck caught her eye. "Draco--you're bruised. Are you all   
right? What happened?"   
  
He released her reluctantly, letting her sit up. Cool fingers against the throbbing pain felt   
good and comforting, like something a family member would do if he'd hurt himself. But no. If   
he wanted someone to weep over his injuries, he'd have to search long and hard until he found   
someone who actually cared.   
  
"Let's just say that my father isn't all that pleased with our relationship and leave it at   
that."   
  
"Your *FATHER* did that?"   
  
"He can be persuasive."   
  
Ginny's mouth hung open in disbelief and righteous outrage. "I've half a mind to march   
up there now and..."   
  
"*NO*," he said hoarsely. If she went after his father, she would end up more than   
bruised. And that wouldn't go over well with the Weasley clan. "Don't even think about it. I'll   
talk him round, make him realize that it's a good idea to get Potter distracted." Draco smoothed   
her hair and let her lean against him comfortingly, still troubled, because in his heart of hearts he   
knew that Lucius Malfoy didn't compromise.   
  
*   
  
Decked out with mistletoe and holly, Hogsmeade was most definitely in the holiday spirit.   
So spirited were the villagers that they decided to sponsor a Christmas Eve ball for the students   
still at Hogwarts. Once the news reached Hogwarts, utter chaos ensued.   
  
Draco and Ginny had no second thoughts about their activities on the night of the twenty-fourth. As soon as he'd heard the news he'd made his invitation, which was eagerly accepted.   
  
So the twenty-fourth came. Much combing of hair was done in the 6th year Slytherin   
boys' dormitory. Draco was determined to look his best for Ginny; she was worth it.   
  
"Goyle," he said suddenly.   
  
"What?"   
  
"If anything comes for me, leave it on my bed, all right? I'm going to the ball with   
Ginny."   
  
"Fine." Once the party animal exited, Goyle pulled out a bit of parchment and a quill and   
scribbled out this message:   
  
Mr. Malfoy:   
Draco's just left for the ball. He asked the Weasley girl to go with him again. You   
told me to tell you so you can correct his behaviour, so here goes. Sometimes he just lies on his   
bed and his eyes get all unfocused. When someone talks to him, he starts up and flinches. Crabbe   
and I are almost sure that he's mooning over Weasley. She's important to him, that much is clear.   
You won't be able to Apparate into Hogsmeade; wards have been set up around there since the   
Dark Lord rose. Take a coach. I'm sure you'll be able to get there in time.   
  
Your humble servant,   
Gregory Goyle   
  
Malfoy wouldn't have a chance to dance.   
  
*   
  
The countdown to Christmas was progressing. Midnight approached, and with it,   
slowdancing. This was special, though; the sponsors would find the cutest couple and put a   
spotlight on them. Ginny and Draco didn't particularly care. It wasn't expected that they'd even   
be in the running, so they just danced, twined together.   
  
Judges roamed the dancefloor. A signal went up and the spotlight zoomed in on the least   
suspecting couple in the room. Ron fumed silently. Everyone cheered his sister and her boyfriend   
while she blushed bright red. What made Ron even angrier was that Malfoy was holding Ginny so   
tightly that it didn't seem likely that even a Severing Charm could separate them.   
  
Right on cue, the door burst open. Cold air rushed in, billowing out the cloak of a tall,   
lithe figure in the doorway.   
  
"Draco," it said. "Come home. Your--" here Lucius Malfoy (for that's who it was)   
faltered. Addressing such an inferior person by name was degrading. "--girlfriend is welcome to   
spend Christmas with us. We'd like you at home for the holidays this year."   
  
A spokesperson ran up to give the pair their prize, but was cowed by one glance from   
Malfoy Sr. They were swept out of the establishment in a whirl of cloak, then seen no more.   
  
"NO!" Ron yelled. "BRING MY SISTER BACK HERE NOW!"   
  
Hermione ran after him, saying a quiet prayer to the Lord God that Ginny and Draco   
would come out of this adventure unscathed.   
  
*   
  
A ballroom has many uses, but none stranger than what it was used for that Christmas   
Eve. Lucius Malfoy stood in the centre of the room, looking at the pillars on the left with   
extreme distaste. He was not so repelled by the pillars but by what was attached to them.   
Namely, the students who had been dancing contentedly not very long before.   
  
An ugly sneer twisted the perfect features into a mockery of their former selves.   
"Thought you could outsmart Lucius Malfoy, did you? Wrong. Or did you not understand that   
when I say 'no' to something, I expect you to obey me? 'No' to seeing someone inferior to you,   
even if it will upset Harry Potter, means 'no', Draco, and you'll have to learn it the hard way,   
won't you?"   
  
"I s'pose. As long as you don't touch Gin. None of this is her fault. She didn't disobey   
you, I did, so it's not right for her to be punished," he drawled, attempting to seem calm. Yet, we   
must wonder, who can remain calm when tied by magical ropes and unable to save someone you   
care about? His vehemence was matched only by the daggers flying in his father's direction.   
  
"Oh, I don't know. She must have done *something* to make you like her so much. I'm   
disappointed in you, though. You were expressly taught not to fall for the first pretty face that   
came your way, and what did you do? Lapped your attentions on an unworthy candidate, and   
now she will pay the price as well." Obviously intending to do something, he approached the   
pillar Ginny was tied to. She steeled herself for an assault, which came with a resounding slap and   
a bright red mark on her cheek.   
  
"Have you reconsidered, son? Is she worth it? Answer me like an obedient son." No   
words came. In response, Draco spat at his father's feet. "I did so hope you'd change your mind.   
Well, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again. CRUCIO!"   
  
Heartbreaking screams rent the air. He tried to curl up, but was foiled once more by his   
bonds. Every atom burned and boiled, searing fierce lines of agony up and down his figure. He   
had to let it go, had to just black out and die...   
  
Ginny couldn't watch. Nothing she did could prevent the shrill screams from drilling into   
her mind, until she was cringing away from the ropes and leaning into the cold marble, squirming   
and wriggling. His pain was evident, but she couldn't do anything. Having watched his son's   
resolution die with shrieks, Malfoy rounded on the other.   
  
"Glad about what you've done, girl? You've forced me to torture my only son. Listen to   
the screams, girl. It's your turn to feel his pain, like he's been pouring out his troubles into your   
open ears. They're your troubles as well now, and you'll repay me for this disgrace."   
Melodramatically, his wand raised, he looked at her pointedly.   
  
"STUPEFY!" Bellowed a voice from the corridor. The antagonist crumpled, and his   
spells with him. Ron bounded into the room and undid Ginny's ropes. She fell sobbing into his   
arms, hugging him tightly. "Shhh, shhhh, it's all right," he whispered, smoothing her hair.   
  
"Little help here, Weasley?" Draco asked.   
  
Grudgingly, with several encouragements from his sister, he undid the ropes. Stumbling   
drunkenly, with all feeling from his legs gone, the Slytherin landed right-side up. He, too, was the   
recipient of a hug.   
  
"Hands off, Malfoy," Ron growled.   
  
"Who's going to make me?"   
  
"I'll--"   
  
"Cut it out, you two," Ginny ordered. They stopped squabbling, slightly embarrassed.   
"That's better. Ron, how'd you get here so fast? I know the coach ride must've taken a long   
time, but that's unthinkable."   
  
"We went straight to Dumbledore, and he found a way to Apparate me here. I had to   
leave the grounds first, of course, but I found you in time."   
  
"How're we getting back to Hogwarts?"   
  
"He gave me a Portkey. When we're all ready, it'll take us all back to the ball."   
  
"Now or never," Draco said. "Hand it over."   
  
"I ruddy well think not."   
  
"Give it to me, then," she suggested. Once an agreement had been reached, the trip   
passed quickly. Ron walked into the Three Broomsticks, but Ginny and Draco stayed outside.   
  
A moonlit walk was needed to soothe their ruffled feelings. In silence, they walked the   
path to Hogwarts. Mutual understanding made words unnecessary.   
  
Finally, to break the barrier, he said "I'm so sorry about my father. He--I can't explain it.   
If he doesn't like you or your family, you might as well take your coffin measurements and write   
your will, cause you'll be needing them soon."   
  
"Ron saved the day, and we're all right."   
  
"I s'pose."   
  
"What d'you think'll happen when someone finds your father? I think he's still stunned,"   
she giggled.   
  
"I'd love to see the look on the person's face." An uneasy silence followed. Neither   
knew quite what to say, so they didn't say anything at all. "God, that was awful," he said   
suddenly. "I wish I could just erase that from my memory. It has to be the worst night of my   
life."   
  
"Oh, thanks ever so. Nice to know that a date with me is the worst night of your life."   
  
Draco spun around, smiling for the first time since they had been abducted. "You know   
that's not what I meant," he said. Luminescent in the moonlight, his bangs fell into his eyes,   
giving him a rakish look. Seconds later those bangs tickled Ginny's forehead and the grimly   
smiling lips had glued themselves to hers. Closer than close, tighter than tight, he held on to her   
as though she were his buoy. Without her he would sink. Icy shocks filled her veins instead of   
blood, but warm, strong arms encircled her waist. It was like standing in a whirlwind; she didn't   
know what would come next.   
  
Finally, the pair decided that they'd had enough for the evening and kept walking back.   
With one of his hands around her waist and her head on his shoulder, he barely even heard the   
clock chime one in the morning.   
  
"Draco?"   
  
"Mm-hmm?"   
  
"Merry Christmas."   
  
*   
  
You are my angel   
Of the morning   
Angel...   
Give me one kiss before you leave...   
  
*   
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, that stank, I know. I wish I could disclaim the whole thing, but who   
would want it? Right. So, if you hadn't already guessed, I don't own Harry, Ron, Hermione,   
Mandy, Draco, Ginny, Lucius, Hogwarts, snogging, the English language, or anything in this   
story. The only things I own are the ways the words are put together and the idea for something   
no one in their right mind would want to read (namely, this story). And Annie. I nearly forgot   
her. Actually, I almost don't own her, because she's a cameo of one of my best camp friends.   
Hey, Woody! Please be kind enough to leave a review. Or else.


End file.
